they will sunder the ties
by lowercasegang
Summary: because they walk side-by-side with unjoined hands, and they are undeniably exhausted. the road ahead is too narrow for five. (revised & reposted)
1. rise

This little birdy cannot sleep.

No matter how many layers of blankets and pillows Beast Boy had willingly toppled over his lithe body for heat retention; no matter how tightly-knit his eyelids became to adapt to the intense obscurity of his nightfallen room; no matter what prime, happy thoughts he forced to dance 'round his head and bring potential dreams to keep him company for the next _however many hours_ , he found himself restless to the point of mental nausea. Every nerve in his system itched for movement despite his efforts to achieve unconsciousness; his bed is foreign and the cold side of the pillow is a disappointment.

Jeez.

He can't stress the discomfort enough at this point. It physically sickens his mind to continuously toss and turn, to take an unnecessary amount of deep breaths, _and_ attempt to find solace in the stale air– air laced with an apparent _something_ rousing him from proper rest. Everything felt weird and off and _it was just too much_.

It escalates to the point where he feels just plain _useless_ lying about in a place unable to offer something he had used all his patience to try and attain.

So, he untangles himself from the heaps of cotton, cloth, and memory foam in favor of tiptoeing to the door, the motion sensor ultimately responding by commanding the door to slither open in a hushed whir. At the same time this occurs, because it is three-ish in the morning and dead silent otherwise, Beast Boy freezes up in his tracks with a yelp and instinctively awaits the arrival of one of his teammates ready to tell him off for his inconsiderate disturbance. Any other time, he probably would have never thought the sound to be so _earsplitting_.

Silence... _again_.

...Not that he would dare admit aloud, but he almost wishes he _had_ gotten scolded in that moment, feeling a tad envious that the silent Titans Tower was otherwise filled with peaceful, stagnant residents. He was the odd one out.

Maybe some fresh air would do him good and act like a lullaby… e _ventually_?

He steps out into the hallway, limbs stretching this way and that way and over and even _another_ time so that when he finally reaches the roof, it's as if he has convinced his body that he's _supposed_ to be wide awake. Within another minute, Beast Boy bends his legs slightly and makes a small lunge to get airborne. However, he does not succumb to gravity as any other should have, rather, he takes the opportunity to shapeshift into a pigeon, cooing softly to mimic a string of groans otherwise capable only in his human form.

And he flutters over to the edge of the tower, landing gracefully and tucking his wings back in. His eyes close, but this time he executes the action naturally, having learned his lesson in the failed attempt of forcing immediate sleep just fifteen minutes ago.

This little birdy cannot sleep, so he will watch over the city and sleep vicariously.

Right now, the vastness and open-endedness of the world around him contrasts the familiar confinements of Titans Tower, enough to where he doesn't feel quite as lonely anymore, in some odd sense.

He's glad he did this. There's some simultaneous effort going on here. He holds no grudge against any of his best friends, nor an entire city simply because they were lucky enough to grasping something he can't quite reach for just tonight.

Let them all sleep; this helps.

In a way, he's playing hero all by himself by being the onlooker, and such a thought has him tilting up his fluffy little avian head with an air of pride. He could sacrifice rest if it meant everyone else was at ease.

Incentive: this breeze is nice, he enjoyed it sifting through his feathers and triggering a temptation to fly off into the dark sky. Nature was empathetic enough to give him this moment of silence and tranquility–

– _but_ , to be brutally honest, the scenario is sorta something he doesn't exactly know how to handle accordingly. Ironically enough, the changeling feels as if he is holding a squirming animal in his arms, realizing that it could easily provide comfort and happiness in its existence alone should he just adjust his arms and accompany its presence better, but in the spur of the moment it was also just an unsettling _acknowledgement_ of _too much power_ and he is flustered and, _ugh_ , the situation is just very, very bittersweet.

So much for this being a great decision. He didn't even mean to ruin it so quickly.

"Alright. I know it's the norm for you to get up early to start breakfast…" A distinctive pause, "…erm, not that anyone eats _your_ breakfast, but. Uh. This is a stretch." Cyborg's voice shatters the previously undisturbed lull, overpowers the waves crashing against the shore below, has the baby animal breaking free of Beast Boy's arms and scurrying far, far away. Said changeling is startled enough to shift back into his human form with a tiny shrill, nearly falling off the edge with all of the vulnerability and spontaneity he's feeling.

Nonetheless, he raises his shoulders in a sort-of shrug, recovering from that quick moment of shock just enough to say _something_ in return. "…Yeah." Is all he finally replies from his seat, and it's only a placeholder to let the half-robot know that he was, in fact, now listening and attentive. "I-I mean, nah. No, s'not for breakfast. Couldn't sleep. Dunno, guess it just seemed like a good idea to kill time out here."

"Trouble sleeping?" The way the elder teen repeats it makes Beast Boy's stomach do a somersault. He's writhing in embarrassment because it sounded more stupid than he can really justify. Maybe he has it all wrong.

But then Cy tacks on a, "hope you're cool, B," and Beast Boy exhales relief. Then, "don't need another member feelin' down."

 _Ouch._ Beast Boy doesn't want to be categorized with "another member"; it scares him, actually. Because it's obvious: Robin was at it again– a little birdy in his own right, yet dealing with an entirely different bundle of issues that hindered his recovery. They were too different for comparison. While Beast Boy sought a simple change in scenery to make his eyelids heavier, Robin's commands during battle grew harsher and his criticism during their training sessions teetered on the border of intended perfection. Minor versus _over the freaking top_.

However, as always, nobody knows how to reach out and snap him back to reality. The leader took to shutting himself in his room for days at a time, only resurfacing at the call of the city alarm. That's all he prioritized nowadays, when in reality it seemed like he just needed to socialize and freaking be _human_ for once.

That's all normal for him, though. Suffice to say the realization was pretty pathetic, but even in this cold state of his, their leader really could be _a lot_ worse off. Experience had made both superheroes present come to learn this.

"But… Cy? I feel like everyone's been weird lately," Beast Boy admits quietly, scooting over as Cyborg plops down beside him–as if there isn't a wide span of ledge on either side of them to provide more than enough room. "I can't be the only one getting that vibe, right? I'dunno if I'm just feeding off leftover tension 'cause I think I'm doing okay, but stuff is just off, and I can't really stay positive, I guess. I'dunno, dude. Not to sound all dramatic-y, but..." He isn't sure where any of this is even coming from, really. Suddenly the prospect of company being current and alive seems to fuel a hidden spark in him, like the sleep-deprivation was really holding back until he had an ear available to listen to his ramblings. He feels like a balloon, deflating as the words spill off his tongue, and he can't tell if it's a good thing or not. "I can't even _try_ to crack a joke anymore, dude. Too weird around the tower now."

He vaguely imagines how the response to this would go with the others. Raven would shake her head at him mid-sentence, eyes flitting back down to the ancient book in her hands, most likely. _"You're over thinking, Beast Boy. Just clear your head for a second. Realize that not everything needs nor deserves to be analyzed to the point where it has unattainable, pointless depth. This happens. Everyone is experiencing their own form of trouble, but it's all fleeting_. _You shouldn't be taking on anyone else's burdens in the meantime."_ Her words were always so blunt toward him, but they carried a subtle hint of concern he could pride himself in, if anything at all. And it was that implication that, more often than not, told him she was right, even if he could only decipher bits and pieces of her intricate vocabulary and way of speaking. Still, because emotion was such a speciality in her case, Beast Boy questions if the reassurance would be said for the both of their sakes.

Starfire would pull him into a bone-crushing hug without the slightest bit of hesitation, the metal of her armbands pressing through even the taut versatility of his morph suit and unintentionally providing more pain than comfort. That's just how she is. _"Oh, certainly dearest friend, please do not plague yourself with such overwhelming negativity!"_ He'd probably even find himself a good ten feet off the ground as she inadvertently floated up, her happiness getting the best of her, _"we are all well, as it should be, and I most certainly prefer you resuming the role of the 'prankster' to contribute laughter! Please, you will cease the worry?"_ Obviously, her reassurance would be easier to detect in its directness, a good balance with her violet-haired counterpart. The problem lay in the fact that she would be in blatant denial; her genuine defense mechanisms prohibiting her from admitting to any sort of trouble. At least to him.

There is a sound of metal scraping against concrete and it makes his sensitive ears twitch and ring, but Beast Boy tries not to squirm too much, knowing Cyborg's only moving as well as he can. Half-lidded eyes watch curiously as his counterpart raises his arm and begins to toy with the functions and buttons scattered across the blue chrome finishing, as if a fancy technological program would readily give him the solution to everything.

"Yeah, I feel that. Does suck that we all decided to get tense at the same time, but cabin fever will do that to you." Now it's Cyborg's turn to shrug.

True. They hadn't had much of a real mission in the past week and a half, skip the occasional petty robber. Even then, it didn't require the super abilities of five teens spontaneously. More often than not, an accurately-aimed star bolt or the sight of a charging, roaring, gigantic dinosaur was enough to put the criminal in fetal position long enough for the cops to arrive. Beast Boy feels ridiculous for craving more villainous activity, but it was the principle of the thing, the adrenaline.

Honestly. That's was it. ...Right?

Cyborg has to smile to himself at the prolonged silences between every reply exchanged. Maybe there _is_ some truth in Beast Boy's insight. Though the kid claimed to be pretty alright enough to isolate himself from the underlying chaos, there had to be _some_ suppression going on, something that truly irked him under the surface and kept his thoughts running too fast and too far. He just isn't used to projecting them outright like everyone else seemed to be doing. Before he can continue to ponder, a flash of red captures the entirety of his vision for a couple of seconds:

 _Battery: 45%_ reads in bulky analog letters, with a half-filled block directly underneath the text.

Shit.

Had he really forgotten to double check to make sure his charge was successful and running prior to 'falling asleep'? _Again?_ This was the third time in the past four days. The consistent blunder was unlike him; referring back to the outlandishness of the team recently, Cyborg could admit to definitely being off protocol in his own way. Plus, it was becoming somewhat of an embarrassment having to excuse himself back to his room to add a bit more power to his system on an hourly basis.

Or maybe the others were too distracted to notice and care, too absorbed in whatever the hell was going on with themselves.

"Heh, yeah." Beast Boy forces a quiet, raspy laugh with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Hm, Cabin fever… "Withdraw from kicking some bad guy butt, huh? Why are ya up anyway?"

"Eh. Midnight snack." Cyborg switches off the power notification in a way that suggests he's afraid it was glaringly obvious. He had until noon, at least.

"Oh. But. It's almost four…" Beast Boy trails off.

Cyborg just stares. " _Fourth_ midnight snack, then."

Gloved hands rest along his stomach as Beast Boy nods, not at all fazed by the ridiculous answer and pang of impatience fired his way. "Yeah, I get that. Could probably go for an early pre-breakfast binge myself, actually…"

"Up for making a pizza?" An unexpected grin appears on Cyborg's features almost immediately upon seeing the other male's eyes light up at the offer. A trivial mending, but it at least fixes things for the time being. He figures that because problems have recently clung to their shoulders, given them premature scowls, _and_ marred their fists into permanent clenches in such a short amount of time, reprieve was bound to come when they were least expecting it; just one little nice change to settle things back to the way they were.

Beast Boy's enthusiasm continues to keep Cyborg's own spirits high with hopefulness. "Dude, yeah!" Suddenly the seriousness of their conversation has dissipated into the gentle air completely, off into the far away distance to maybe transfer onto someone else in the city. "Half tofu, half veggie…?!"

"I can dig it– _heeey_ , hold up, we're _putting_ meat on there, it's not killing any animals if they're already-"

" _Don't even say it, dude!_ "

And in the midst of the banter, a large, wispy black crow comes to form before them. Its wingspan boasts its length in the air, a tail swishing in a counteracting rhythm. It strays from the delicacy of Beast Boy's earlier form by a longshot with sharp, almost illusionary features. After abruptly tossing its head back, out emerges a levitating, hooded Raven, her head directed down and cloak fluttering in compensation still. She only lifts her eyes to acknowledge them, hugging her arms against her chest.

"There you are. Hi. I was sent to retrieve you two. We have something to assess downtown."

* * *

In Starfire's eyes, humans will forever be remarkable when it comes to expression of feeling. Her people had no qualms about the depth of their own emotions, thus, they expressed them wholeheartedly, if only to validate their being. Suppression seemed so... exhausting. Nothing came out of feeling an emotion, only to push it away and feign ignorance.

So why was everyone she knew so inclined to do just that?

She had declined Robin's half-suggestion, half-demand that one of the heroines hurry to seek out their two missing members as he himself was furiously typing away at the computer, grids and associating captions popping up everywhere on the screen until it was an ultimate jumble of incoherence. Because of the sudden wake-up call jolting her from the best bout of rest she's received in the past two weeks, the sight was too much to process so soon, so early in the morning.

By the time Raven had muttered something under her breath and phased through the floor, the alien was by the remaining male's side. Her arms are crossed as she scrutinizes his expression carefully. Better to look at him than risk a migraine when assessing the screen, not when they were minutes away from another confrontation.

Even if it probably wasn't anything dire. As usual.

"You are… still troubled," she begins carefully. Her voice is still laced with sleep and queries she dare not speak in addition; it'd only fall upon willingly deaf ears. Nothing he hasn't heard before, or anything important enough to not be shrugged off his shoulder like a pesky fly.

Robin bites his tongue. How is he supposed to answer? His shoulders tense and his eyes narrow behind his mask; Starfire can only see his profile, what with his face parallel to the screen. The metal toe of his left boot taps against the carpet while he awaits the exact coordinates of the distress call to load. It was taking too damn long, and he desperately wants to have a synopsis ready by the time Beast Boy and Cyborg were summoned– _that was where Raven disappeared off to, right?_ Better have been. He lacked the time to call them up himself when they _should_ have heard the alarm loud and clear.

Seriously. Damn it all.

"I'm fine, Starfire." But he sounds like a broken record and he flinches at the stupid sentence just as she sighs; they both know.

"Robin, I do not appreciate your lack of honesty. Friends are not meant to exchange lies, yes?" She nods, answering for both of them. "There is something wrong and it is abnormal. I have been observing the team as a whole; this tension, this heavy atmosphere is not just with you, but with all of our friends. _Please._ I do not understand why we are so inclined to do the 'shutting out' when we are all very much capable of discussing our troubles as a group-"

He interrupts her right then because being scolded, even by her, is the last thing he wants right now. "Calm down. Maybe it's just stress. Exhaustion. Boredom." The latter twists his lips into a bitter smile– he thought he was the only one who felt like he needed to jump out of his skin when he wasn't working on something. It was a tad unsettling to think such a trait had befallen everyone else, or that they were showing their unrest to a similar level of obviousness. "I don't know, but whatever it is, you shouldn't worry. We're… _we're all fine_."

There was that word again.

Starfire begins to play with her fingers, already concocting another way to go about approaching the subject without, once more, tossing an entire interrogation at him while they still had the time alone. Why she had thought that Robin of all of them would be the first to open up was beyond her, really. Perhaps it was an optimism stemming from the assumption that in getting through the thickest, toughest wall first, she could sooner start on the less tedious fronts of the others.

But she doesn't know what else to say.

Or, well, truth be told she _does_ have a few miscellaneous ideas, but they all somehow require raising her voice and the high risk of energy being released in the fullest of blasts from her fingertips. Anger, in her instance, was almost always triggered by their foes in battle, so the mere thought that Robin's stubbornness was equivalent in reaction made chills rise like gravel along her skin– _'duck bumps'_ , she briefly recalls the term from Beast Boy's explanation.

Robin suddenly stands up straight again, and for a split second the redhead is firmly convinced that he's going to initiate delving more into the conversation. She encourages him with the best hopeful look she can possibly muster. She can feel him meeting her eyes through his mask before raising an arm to point at the large screen: _look_. It is a silent command she follows more out of instinct than willingness.

"Does this place look familiar to you?"

 _Oh._ Change of topic; her heart sinks.

But a pair of wary green eyes squint at the map still, more specifically drawn to the area within the blinking, neon yellow circle. "It… does not." She purses her lips, then it hits her. "Wait! My apologies; that is the same construction zone where we apprehended the vehicle thieves… and the obnoxiously loud robbers of the department store… and the runaway prisoners…" She can practically see each and every criminal flashing before her eyes as they're mentioned, all associated with this random, vast expansion of dirt and barely-built structures of metal. "Why do they all insist on reconvening there? Is it-"

"A connection?" Cyborg finishes for her as he appears alongside Raven and Beast Boy once the doors of the common area slide open. He's the first to approach the duo, lifting an eyebrow at the screen. "They did all eventually run right there during the chase, huh?"

"And that was always the last stop, too. Conveniently, we always managed to catch them for good at that very spot, like surrender was just inevitable because of the location. The pursuits all follow some pattern with that outcome." Raven presses her lips into a thin line, resisting the urge to reach up and rub any remaining traces of sleep from her face. Though, she does settle for leaning against the arm of the couch by falling back on her heels.

Robin slams a fist into his open palm, both hating and finding solace in the fact that he isn't the only one to catch the odd coincidence. "This guy's making it easy; starting up at the place so there isn't a chase at all. We're going to figure everything out, _even if it takes us the rest of the night._ " The Boy Wonder is determined, this is already proving to be the best lead they've acquired in what seems like legitimate _ages_.

The remaining Titans don't respond.

There is no 'we'. _He_ is going to figure everything out even if it takes the remainder of the night. Robin had gone from communicating to them as a team, as it should be, to retreating inward again. He is making unnecessary goals with impossibly high marks and knew just as well as the rest of them that his obsession would creep up and grip at this chance before it even reached a level that was serious enough to be legitimately concerned about. He's been going stir-crazy with the lack of action lately, which probably explains why his back aches from hours upon hours of sitting at his desk, rummaging through police reports and criminal biographies in the hopes that he could fathom an upcoming attack justifying the current inactivity. His hands _always_ needed to be busy, and the irrationality is painfully obvious to everyone but himself.

But he also knows it's just typical of him, and that is enough to keep suspicion of the overwork at bay… for three out of the four of his housemates, at least.

"Titans," he begins, shutting down the computer and sprinting past, not even giving the others the decency of facing them as he readied the battle cry, " _go!_ "


	2. suspect

As expected, the streets of Jump City are deserted and devoid of pedestrian life, leaving the Titans responsible for producing the only disturbances that penetrate the urban atmosphere as they head to their destination. Raven drums her fingers against the portion of her cloak resting on the car seat until the T-Car rolls to a stop at the next intersection. Blinking, she averts her gaze from the dreary red light illuminating the empty streets over to the driver on her left, allowing the engine to overwhelm the silence for a couple of seconds before she speaks.

"You're… really paying attention to the stoplight right now?" She straightens her posture and looks over her shoulder, noticing naught but the long stretch of darkness that comprised the major city streets– they all trailed back into oblivion with buildings lining each side. "We've got the lead."

"Regardless of who gets there first, Robin's ass is still somehow gonna be the first one jumping into whatever this mess is. I'm really not countin' on this bad guy to be a handful, and I'm _tired_. If he wants to play solo hero tonight, so be it." Cyborg's words are lilting. It's a song he's performed many times before and with only slightly different lyrics; the tune remains the same.

The empath feels as if she should smile in retaliation, but the hard truth only renders her expression remarkably stoic. "...Valid point."

Indeed, they could opt for going two miles an hour for the remainder of the commute, and Robin would fail to notice their absence until he _maybe_ had the audacity to stop in the midst of his adrenaline rush and _perhaps_ assess that ⅘ of his team was MIA.

This mission most certainly would not necessitate all of their presence for a single human criminal, if recent events were any indication of such.

But she doesn't have to formally invade any of the others' thoughts to know that they'd all rather deal with their team leader's wrath tonight, rather than endure it first thing in the morning after this horrendous, repetitive wake-up call. Even if the most they did was get into a fighting stance and simply allow Robin to have the satisfaction of thinking they got anywhere tonight with this mystery, it would be well worth it in the long run.

...Until this pattern of oddities decided to plague the heroes again, that is.

The light eventually switches back to green after waiting through the designated period for a couple nonexistent cars to cross the intersection.

" _Cyborg, come in."_

The half-robot tenses at the radio call, exchanging another look with Raven before clearing his throat. "Yeah, Robin, copy."

" _We're going to try this a different way this time. I want you and Raven to circle around to the back; find a loophole or something that'll get you inside the construction zone from there."_

Raven answers this time. "Alright."

" _Raven, you'll be Southeast. Beast Boy, come in from the East. Cyborg, Southwest; Starfire, West. I'll take head-on. We should have our bases covered, so on the chance he tries something different from the cycle, he's bound to run into someone regardless of direction. Are we all clear?"_

"Crystal," Raven deadpans.

Cyborg grunts his affirmation.

" _That is fine, Robin."_

" _Squaaawk!"_

The half-robot then switches the radio back to standby mode, putting some more pressure on the gas pedal. "Let's just get this over with."

And there is nothing to warrant it, necessarily, but Raven momentarily finds solace behind her eyelids–– bracing her tolerance for a whirlwind of emotions to come in the next fifteen minutes or so. One by one, the Titans flash before her eyes, only similar in the expression that they all share.

Solemn.

* * *

 _Battery: 42%._

By some miracle, Cyborg has been conscious of conserving his battery. It seems to be mostly out of obligation, now that the team is in the midst of a stakeout and he can't really afford to be deadweight at any point. He and Raven had parted ways upon parking the T-Car a decent distance away from the construction zone, exchanging one final look of exasperation before turning their backs on one another.

One glance at the coordinates on his arm indicates that he'd angled his direction correctly. Robin's tracker was to his right and slightly angled outward, meaning that Cyborg himself was, in fact, heading Southwest. He swivels his head a couple of times to do a quick scouting of the area, but the air remains motionless, unwilling to betray any indication of their target.

Now, he could only wait for that to change. Cyborg quickens his pace, effortlessly slipping through a gaping hole along the rusty metal gate after jerking at the door latch. His feet sink into mud as he walks, leaving behind pronounced footprints. His T-communicator makes a brief static sound while coming to life. Already, Robin is impatient for results.

" _Starfire, have you landed yet?"_

" _I am... reaching the ground as we speak."_

" _Were you able to detect any movement from up above?"_

" _No, there was nothing perceived. Though, I am not sure if Beast Boy yielded similar results?"_

The conversation comes to a halt there, and Cyborg grimaces; he can picture their leader scowling at his communicator, awaiting an answer from the changeling at being mentioned.

"...Cyborg reporting. Y'hear that, BB? Give us a– uh, whatever noise you can make. What's the status man?"

Additional static. Whereas Cyborg had attempted to keep some vague semblance of lightheartedness with their contact, Robin remains at his wits end. He hisses for all remaining members to take in, " _Beast Boy, report!"_

" _...Beast Boy reporting in, dudes. "_

" _Are you... whispering?"_ Raven is unwillingly joining in to ask what all the Titans are thinking. " _Why?"_

" _There's a––"_ And the word is cut just a millisecond too short for anyone's liking, promptly followed by a groan of pain.

" _Beast Boy!"_

Cyborg doesn't know who called out first, nor does it really matter. All that registers is a conscious effort that puts his weakened battery second to the plight of his friend. He assembles his sonic cannon and lifts it towards the darkness with a newfound fury, grinding his teeth. "Alright, who's messin' with us tonight?! You're gonna run into one of us eventually!"

"—Youare _unwelcome_!"

Never mind the harsh chill that racks through his body as an afterthought; fortunately, the direction of the sound registers in just enough time for him to stumble out of the trajectory of a boulder flying through the air. Cyborg then regains his stance and fires, only for the blast to be offset by a sphere of green energy, the resulting backfire sending him tumbling into a car. He clutches his head with a grimace, beginning to rise from the concave dent that the impact had produced. "Yo, wh-wha–"

"Cyborg?! I am sorry!" Starfire scurries toward him and crouches forward to help him to his feet, the glow in her eyes dimming. Confusion is clearly fixed on her features, as if the gears turning in her head are also spinning mid air before her. "I thought––but–– it was not _you_ ; _you_ were not…"

Cyborg winces once more, the pounding in his head slowly subduing but simultaneously triggered by his teammate's frantic, high-pitched voice. "I just heard a voice, wasn't you or any of the others," he interrupts, rolling his shoulders back.

The alien falls silent, grateful for the words she cannot otherwise fathom in the heat of the moment. She nods her head. "Yes, I heard it as well. Something had shouted that I was... _unwelcome_ —"

"Yeah… same here." The corners of his lips fall. "Wait, Star." He glances at her, then brings up the coordinates from earlier. "Remind me where Robin placed you."

"To the West."

"Right, right. So, uh," he taps a few choice buttons on his geographical map, "then maybe we heard the same voice?"

Starfire rises an inch or two off the ground, digging her fingers into her palms but not yet readying starbolts again. "It is odd, though." Nothing about their predicament is making sense, so much that the thought of taking another risk with a melee attack only has her fearing that she'll hit another Titan. She decides to mention just that. "The voice was in such close proximity to _me_ , but I turned around and unintentionally targeted _you_." She cocks her head to the side after giving their surroundings another cautious onceover. "Please, do you recall where you heard _your_ unusual voice?"

"Uh… I guess it was in your direction, I mean, it _definitely_ was." It's all coming back to him now that he's fully immersed himself back in the moment. He's still sensitive enough to all but relive the timbre reverberating from just beside his ear––he knows he wouldn't have blindly fired without a certain justification behind the aim. "Could've been the size of a fly for all I know, but it was creepy, bein' so close. Maybe… could BB have run into the same thing?"

She opens her mouth as if to offer more insight, only for her head to whip back around. Cyborg follows her movements with his canon, seeing a green light illuminate out of the corner of his eye. "Did you hear it again?" He whispers.

"I hear… _something_."

* * *

"No."

A wave of dark magic emits from Raven's fingertips, reaching out and ultimately entrapping the intrusive figure in its center. She levitates a little closer to where the stranger is pinned, lowering her hands only slightly to better assess who exactly she'd caught. " _You_ are the unwelcome one," she murmurs, shattering the pregnant pause that'd ensued after the voice had caught her by surprise.

Her captive doesn't move, not even a flinch to indicate their awareness of being seized. From here, all she can make out is the _essence_ of a head slumped over. Whoever this is, their inactivity is concerning. Still, Raven wills her guard to remain as strong as ever; they had caught more than enough villains to know that many considered this a _game_. "Reveal yourself," she commands, beginning to approach again. There was simply no way that this is over. Not this quickly. Not when another Titan had yet to utilize their communicator to share an update of the sort.

Not when Beast Boy is still MIA.

The unsettling reminder has her lowering back onto the ground, kicking a discarded, aluminum can aside. As if reeling back a rope, the empath pulls the unknown entity closer, but it doesn't get very far before she's letting out a gasp and allowing the reigns to dissolve in wisps of black. There, in the dim light of the stars, lay a straw dummy with crudely sewn button eyes. No longer being forced into an upward position by her power, it slumps onto the uneven terrain before her.

 _What?_

Raven raises an eyebrow, folding idle hands across her chest and opting to nudge the dummy with just enough pressure to roll it onto its side. Not even a mouth stitching. No wonder it hadn't replied.

Even worse, she'd been trying to intimidate it.

"...This has to be a joke." The air that surrounds her is still, though she strains to make out the taunting laughter of teenagers, or even the melodramatic sneering of a villain who had only used this as a decoy. When neither appears to exist, Raven heaves a small albeit exasperated sigh through her nose. She had heard _something_ , that much is true. It'd been an eerie breath, close enough to ruffle the fabric of her hood and cause her to retaliate without a second thought. This dummy looks so blatantly pathetic in every aspect of the word, yet there's absolutely no reason why she would have aimed in its direction without probable cause.

She holds her T-communicator close to her mouth, backing away from her stagnant counterpart after narrowing her eyes at it. "Um. Can we… reconvene? I just found something… unexpected."

Her question is only met with static.

"...Hello?"

Nothing. Violet eyes flit towards the night sky. Had the others stumbled upon pranks of their own?

" _Yah!"_

A bo-staff strikes the ground before her, rough enough to emit a cloud of dust. Raven swipes a hand through the air to summon a shield in preparation for a second round. There's a brief flash of yellow. "R-Robin, _stop_!"

And stop he does, with three birdarangs wedged between his fingers and reeled back, eager to whip through the air. As the two teenagers come to acknowledge one another's presence, Robin grabs and retracts his staff, pulling it back to his side just as Raven's shield is withdrawn. Much unlike her own unruffled appearance, the leader is frazzled, and only redirects his sights to another random spot, preparing himself to attack again. The question of why exactly he had nearly hit Raven is _there,_ certainly, but adrenaline clouds his rationale. With flared nostrils and a heaving chest, he only composes himself long enough to address her with words spat in quick succession. "Someone's out here, Raven. I think that's what Beast Boy ran into. I swear, there was _someone_ standing here!" He regards said position with a flick of his wrist.

"...Me?" She humors the male, letting her hood down.

Robin's lip curls, and he turns his back to her. " _No_."

This time, her magic manifests in the form of a black sphere, which weaves through the air and leaves the the dummy suspended in the air. Raven watches as Robin doesn't visibly react to it being laid by his feet. "Well, _this_ is what I found. I heard a voice, followed it deeper into the construction, and thought I had it cornered."

A silence befalls them next, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. Robin doesn't have to say it; ironically, his lacking body language tells more than enough. Robin _knows_ her––knows her to an extent that, even amid his own indignation, it would be wrong to assume Raven is being anything but dead serious. She had been just as aware as he, scouting out their supposed danger, and had inadvertently fallen for an unusual distraction…

...And, Robin had, in his own way, been duped too.

"Robin," she addresses him again, a tinge of assertiveness in her tone as the potential seriousness of it all is sinking in, and she isn't going to waste any more time enabling him. "...What if splitting up was a bad idea?" She lifts her chin and projects her voice, "assuming this is only one perpetrator for the time being, things are going one of two ways. We're either being toyed with..."

"Or they're picking us off," Robin finishes. "It's not impossible."

Maybe she's imagining it, but the empath swears she sees a crease form just over his mask. Concern.

"Beast Boy must've got the bad end." And before Raven can explain her _other_ predicament, Robin reaches for his own T-communicator. "Titans, status report. We need to meet up."

Given the circumstances, of course, had it not been for her standing a few feet away, Raven wouldn't have caught any of that. And it's that very bristling static from her own device which catches Robin's attention. He stiffens, jabbing a thumb onto the call button multiple times.

"You've got to be kidding me. The signal shouldn't be shot."

"No, not usually. Unless... our _friend_ was expecting us to come out here tonight."


End file.
